Weekly Photo Challenge: Looking Up in Boston

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Looking up from the Boylston Street Memorial

Looking up in Boston today, paper cranes and even bouquets of daffodils grace the trees.

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Color Guard


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Two varieties of color guard attended my husband’s Closing Ceremonies.

One was made up of Boy Scouts for whom my husband Jim had been a troop leader, teaching boys who became young men to identify stars in the night sky, ice climbing, sub-zero camping, cooking unusual food, instructing in emergency preparedness and other merit badge esoterica, hiking . . . and administering plenty of emergency medical aid over the years.

These young men solemnly led the service, walking down the aisle in Phillips Church, holding the flags which made up the colors.

You can see some of the Scouts’ contemplative faces to my left as I spoke while they were seated together in uniform.

Another color guard was there, too, made up of my daughter and the young women who are her teammates.  They had fled a competition immediately after performing so my daughter and her friends could come straight back and change to attend her father’s memorial service. Continue reading “Weekly Photo Challenge: Color Guard”

(Weekly Photo Challenge: Home) Longing and Belonging

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Jim’s Home (c) SMG 2010

During the past several months I’ve probably given more thought to the idea of “home” than I ever had before.

“The Glennon family was home,” said Uncle Randy at my husband’s memorial service, referring to Jim’s purchase of his very old dream house and land.  With an eight-acre pond.  Jim, who did not long for many things, always had yearned for a pond.  On this unnamed pond, he taught his children and their friends and his nieces and nephews to ice skate.

Jim built benches to drag out onto the ice so children could sit there and he could glide over on his hockey skates, winter jacket flapping open and cheeks as rosy as the toddlers’ were, and pull tightly on their laces and double and triple-knot them.  Then Jim would smoothly skate backwards, holding small hands with fingers ensconced in bright hand-knit frog-shaped or dinosaur-patterned mittens.

One winter Jim and I skated over the pond’s thick frozen surface and I looked down and saw fish swimming beneath us, in blue water clouded over by waves of frozen silver.

The pond and surrounding woods attracted animals of all kinds.  Jim took his camera down to explore and take pictures of swans, red fox and newborn kits, herons, beavers and their formidable dams.

The sun would rise over Jim’s pond, beyond the broad arc of his bountiful bird feeders.  I have never seen so many sunrises as I did during the sleepless nights of his illness, when the fear of missing a waking moment with him–even as he slept–seemed more than I could bear.

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The house itself was and always will be “Jim’s house.”  The new part was built in 1805.  Its thick glass window panes, Indian shutters, original FBUSs (Floor Boards of Unusual Size), ten fireplaces and two brick beehive ovens reminded him of old houses he had worked on with a favorite uncle when Jim was growing up.

As with a Marilynne Robinson character (a widower who remained in the home he had shared with his wife and many children) in Home: “The house embodied for him the general blessedness of his life, which was manifest, really indisputable.” “Such times you  had!” the widower told a daughter revisiting the house–“as if the present slight desolation were confetti and candy wrappers left after the passing of some glorious parade.”

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Sunrise on Jim’s Pond (c) January 2011

Continue reading “(Weekly Photo Challenge: Home) Longing and Belonging”

(Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 in Pictures) Runners-Up!

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All images (c) Stephanie Glennon 2012
 

I jumped the gun.  Hopped the horse.  Prematurely flipped the cyber-page.

Just over a week ago I spent hours reviewing every photograph I’d taken during 2012 in order to pick one favorite from each month, to accompany one favorite post from each month of this blog’s first year.

Some of the choices were difficult to make, but I’ve just been handed a chance to share the runners-up.   To change it up a little, I’m going to add some back story. . .in haiku form.

In my defense, I’m recovering from a holiday influenza-fest and remain punchy (and not in the good, Christmas bowl-of-cheer way).

 

A cranberry bog/cream curving under crimson/half-light or half-dark?

Our children’s music/made so many ways, all notes/help refill my heart

Bright orange sunset/missing only Jim’s blue-greens/still stuns me at dusk

Whimsical bunny/cow-sized, near a road, stops me/Who will believe it?

I don’t like eggplant/but its colors are gorgeous/indigo from earth

Moving day brought me/to a bright windy sidewalk/graced by cabbage rose

First day back in court/began with another storm/sculpting an Iris

Jim’s wreath became home/to an elaborate nest/hatching three robins

A sun back-lit leaf/fluttered against another/I see hearts, always

Kyoto was cold/cherry blossoms just starting/to peek from their buds

Wind-carried prayers/fluttered on papers, temples/in mountains and air

I thought it would be/surrounded by hydrangea/but Jim sent just one


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